The Best of Two Worlds and of None
by Nightsailer
Summary: According to a fatally injured young girl, dhampirs are the best of both worlds and of neither. What terrible secrets about the Nobility and the dhampirs can she harbor that forced her to drive a stake through her own heart?
1. My Blood Runs Cold

The wind whispered softly through the ancient forest, leisurely winding through the moonlight-spattered leaves on its endless quest for infinity. It sang a silent song known only to the stars, and the tears of countless blazing suns rained down upon the earth in streams of shimmering silver light. And as the sorrow of the galaxies flowed quietly down the cheeks of nature's beauty, it mingled with the red blood that smeared the girl's face, transforming the lovely countenance into the visage of gruesome death.

She had lain there for nearly an hour, her slender form leaning precariously against the rough bark of a pine on the edge of a small clearing. Blood trickled from several small head wounds, but the main source of her agony poured from a wound on the left side of her ample bosom...

...where a stake protruded from her chest.

The wind picked up. Starting with a small mist, the clouds began to shower her with tiny, sparkling missiles, as if attempting to wash away the wounds that would never heal.

Feeling the cold water coursing down her cheeks, the girl lifted dry eyes to the heavens and managed a small smirk.

"No need to cry for me," she rasped, a low chuckle brimming in her throat. "You didn't cry for him - why start now?" Letting her head tumble to the side in a flurry of ebony curls, she managed a small cough. A line of blood and spittle dribbled from her lips.

The rain continued to pound away at her skull, cascading across her creamy skin and pooling in her lap. A small puddle formed around her unmoving frame. The girl raised her hand, placing it on the stake in an almost loving caress. "You'll see," she murmured, casting a look of defiance at the stormy heavens. "It'll all be over soon...you'll see, you'll see...save it for then...save the tears for when I can't see them anymore..."

The stoic sky said nothing. More water slammed into her body, feeling more painful to the girl than the stake through her breast.

"I...I said save them!" she growled. "I don't want your pity!" Foam flecked her crimson lips as madness stole across her pristine features. She shook a bloody fist at the sky.

"I don't want it! You gave him none! No one cried for him - no one cared!" Anguish flooded her face, but still she did not cry. "No one but me saw it," she continued in a low, harsh whisper. "No one saw the pain he carried inside! No one saw the beauty that had no choice but to kill..." When the rain did not stop, the girl started thrashing about, as if trying to knock away every individual drop before it could reach her bloody form.

She was too preoccupied with fighting off her unseen foe that she didn't hear the hoofbeats pounding the ground to the east until the horse's rider was already upon her. The cloaked man came with a speed rivaling the now-raging winds, but when he thundered through the trees into the small clearing, he came to a silent and instantaneous stop before her. Glittering dark eyes studied her from beneath the wide brim of a traveler's hat - eyes that seemed to capture the moonlight and crystallize it within their ebony depths. In one fluid motion, the man dismounted his horse with nary a sound and walked toward the struggling girl.

The stiffened as a tall shadow crept across her body. Glancing up with pained but fierce golden eyes, she glared at the man who stood silently before her, his cape flowing gracefully in the wind.

"What...do you want?" she demanded with as much gusto as she could muster.

"You are hurt," came the reply. It was devoid of any emotion - he could have been commenting on the weather. For some reason this bothered the girl, and she thrust out her chin in an even greater show of defiance.

"Aren't you a smart one," she snarled. But even as she spoke, she shivered under the young man's piercing gaze; her hand moved to cover the stake protruding from her chest.

The traveler's sharp eyes did not miss the miniscule movement. Without batting an eye, he knelt before her and reached out to grab the end of the stake.

Startled, the girl flinched away from him. "Wh...what do you think you're doing!"

"Are you a victim of the Nobility?"

The question seemed to slap the girl across the face. She recoiled even further into the darkness. "No, I'm not," she answered, setting her lips into a grim line. "And I did this myself, so you can just go on about your merry way."

If this unusual statement surprised the beautiful young man, his face did not show it. In a single movement, he had slipped under the low-hanging branches of the pine and pushed back the soaked black hair that fell miserably across her pale, thin shoulders.

Biting back an astonished gasp at this ungodly show of speed, the girl fought to look him angrily in the eye. "What, you didn't believe me?" she asked bitterly.

"No." The young man let her hair fall back onto her shoulder. He shrugged. "But now I do." Though it seemed his mystery had been solved, he continued to stare at the girl, his face as emotionless as the moon above.

Seeing his hesitation, the girl stuck her tongue out at him. "Well, now that you know I'm not a vampire, shouldn't you be on your way?" she demanded acidly.

"Why did you choose such a method to do away with yourself?"

Unaware that this inquiry into her life was completely out of character for the young traveler, the girl sniffed and looked away. "I don't see how it's any of your business."

"I suppose not." Without any further questioning, the man turned to go.

When he had almost reached his horse, the girl called after him, "You're a vampire hunter, aren't you?"

The man didn't answer. He put one foot into the stirrup and prepared to mount.

"It's all your fault, you know," she growled. Forcing herself into a sitting position, she rose to her knees. She pointed an accusing finger at him. "You and your kind...hypocrites, the lot of you..." The exertion required to force herself into a kneeling position showed in her face as she fought to push the words through blood-stained teeth. A hollow laugh fell from her lips. "Damned dhampir," she sneered. "'The best of two worlds and of neither'. Hated, pitied, admired, feared...what a load of fucking bull shit. All you care about is yourself - you kill the Nobility because you want to live another day, is that it?"

The man didn't answer, but he appeared to be listening. He made no move to order his horse onward.

"Acceptance is such a fickle thing," she growled, feeling herself falling at last into oblivion. "Why would anyone...want something that lasts...only as long as the fear sleeps...?" She pitched forward, unconscious even before gravity began to draw her into the earth's embrace.

But the earth never got to hold her.

In an instant, the young traveler had caught her even as she fell, carrying her gently to his horse and hefting her up in front of him. Then, with a command none could see or hear, he galloped off into the darkness, his cape flowing out behind him in a river of moonlight.

The girl came to about an hour later. She found herself lying in a self-warming traveler's sleeping bag, comfortable but utterly confused. _I was supposed to have died!_ She thought wildly. _I wanted to die! Why am I still here!_ Moving only her eyes, she checked her surroundings, just in case she needed to pretend to be asleep.

The young man who had questioned her earlier sat facing her with his back against a tree. A longsword was draped across his lap, and the wide-brimmed traveler's hat was pushed forward on his head so his eyes were just barely visible. Seeing that he was looking right at her with those gorgeous black eyes, the girl immediately cursed herself and squeezed her eyes shut.

"I know you're awake," the man said softly. It wasn't a threat or a goad – he was merely stating a fact.

Her eyes flared open. "I didn't ask you to save me," she snarled, voice dripping venom.

"I know that."

"Then why did you!" she shrieked, throwing aside the sleeping bag and lurching into a sitting position.

The young traveler nodded in her direction. "You shouldn't move so quickly," he said quietly. "You'll reopen your wounds."

The girl flicked a glance down at her body, then let out a shriek. She was completely naked from the waist up except for a thin strip of bandage wound around her bosom. Covering herself with her arms, she shot a look of pure hatred in his direction.

"I wanted to die!" she screamed. "I didn't want to keep living this fucking life! Why the hell would you do something like that!"

He cocked his head ever so slightly. "Is it wrong to save someone who doesn't want to die?"

"Did you not hear a word I just said?" she demanded. "I told you, I stabbed myself with that stake! Why the hell would I do that if I didn't want to—"

"You missed your vital organs," he interrupted, "and barely went deep enough to scratch a rib." Getting gracefully to his feet, he made his way over to where she sat fuming on a bed of pine needles. Kneeling beside her, he held her gaze as he asked, "That stake was not driven by any hand that wanted to die."

She felt her lips flap open and closed, but no sound came out. The traveler's gorgeous visage had stirred something deep within her heart – something that was not entirely hatred, but not entirely anything else. Letting her long black hair fall to curtain her face, she muttered, "A mistake I won't make again."

Something that resembled a small sigh blew between the strong, shapely lips. The man rose to his feet and went back to prop himself up against the tree.

"Who are you?" she asked suddenly, eyes glimmering with tears that could not be shed.

"D." The beautiful eyes rose to the stars as he folded his arms across his chest. "Get some rest. I will see you back to your village in the morning."

"And if I refuse?"

D didn't answer. He merely conversed with the stars in the silent and remorseful tongue of the heavens.


	2. Rune

Well, I know this isn't the most popular of books, but I love it to death and I've always wanted to write a fic about it. D is just so amazingly sexy…okay, but before I go on a rant about how much I love D, I've gotta say thanks for reading this and thanks for giving it a chance. I promise it'll get really good (or at least I myself think it will) cuz I already have it all planned out. So stick with me! I promise you won't regret it. R&R.

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The girl awoke to the sound of a saddle being strapped into place. Rising up on her elbows, she blinked blearily in the morning light as her eyes focused on D.

The dhampir Hunter was strapping his longsword onto his back. The golden sunlight danced merrily upon his flowing black hair, then scampered onto his cloak for a race to the leaf-spattered earth. Muscles rippled beneath the leather riding outfit, sliding fluidly against one another as their owner gave the straps one last tug.

The girl, finding herself unwittingly mesmerized, shook her head sharply and stared stubbornly off over his shoulder. She felt his eyes turn upon her; she stared harder, determined to make her defiant expression belie the flush rising on her cheeks.

"Are you ready?" D asked quietly.

"No," she growled. "I'm not going."

"You get on first," D ordered, as if he hadn't even heard her. He caught and held her gaze with two blazing pools of night. "I'll ride behind you. What's the name of your village?"

Taken aback by this show of utter indifference, the girl was forming the harsh, stinging reply in her mind when she heard herself say, "It's called Lairen. It's a couple miles west of here." She felt herself climbing to her feet, and no matter how much her brain screamed for her to stop, she approached the waiting horse and took the hand D extended to her.

D lifted here easily onto the saddle, then swung up behind her and took the reigns.

The girl twisted around to give him a look of utter hatred. "I hate it when you dhampirs do that," she grated.

D said nothing. Giving the reigns an expert flick, the horse sprang forward and headed down the path. The sudden movement forced the girl to grip the pommel; D's hand reached out to steady her, but she snarled and slapped him away. Without giving any sign that he felt the small smack, D continued to lead his horse toward the village.

Realizing that her ill-tempered manner would do nothing to deter the dhampir from his quest, the girl blew out a sullen sigh and slumped in the saddle, determined to cause him as much trouble as possible as he hauled her back to the village. D barely seemed to notice. Black eyes fixed only on the road ahead, he guided his horse expertly towards their destination.

After about ten minutes of riding in surly silence, the girl finally flicked another glance over her shoulder. "So tell me," she said in a voice that was almost – if not quite – amiable, "why are you so hell-bent on taking me back anyway?"

"You have a connection to the Nobility."

The girl slapped the pommel. "So does everyone on this God-forsaken Frontier!" The somewhat friendly voice dissolved into an oozing pit of resentment. "Why take special interest in me?"

D deigned to meet her gaze; despite her undesirable situation, she felt her rage begin to ebb away. She narrowed her eyes further, if only to convince herself that she was indeed still angry.

"You are the only human I've known to drive a stake through her own heart," he replied. Was that a shadow of a grimace on his face, or was it just the way the sun filtered through the crisp summer leaves? The girl couldn't be sure. With a toss of her black hair, she faced forward once again.

"And I take it you intend to find out why," she stated loftily. "Well, good luck with that. There's no way in hell I'm telling you."

D didn't reply. They came to a fork in the road; the dhampir Hunter cast her a quick glance, and, after a moment of wrestling with the inability to refuse him, she nodded to the leftmost path, gritting her teeth against a scream.

The village rose slowly out of the sun-dappled trees. Shining chrome roofs sparkled in the morning light, casting gleams of merriment onto the faces of children scampering to and fro about the street. Here and there a man led a cyborg horse across the pavement, or a woman dressed in faded jeans and a t-shirt would call across a fence to a neighbor. Power lines formed an orderly cobweb just above the shimmering rooftops; the town buzzed with activity.

The girl paled at the bustling sight, barely concealing a gulp behind a cough as she steeled herself against some unnamable emotion. Sliding from the saddle, she favored D with a crude smile.

"Thanks for the ride," she said sarcastically. "Now that I'm back in hell, I shouldn't have any more problems. See you later." Turning on her heel, she started down the road.

D watched her go, then turned his gaze to the busy town. Upon the girl's arrival, an eerie hush had fallen over the village. Men averted their gaze, women whispered fervently behind their hands, and children stared with round, unabashed eyes after the girl who was making her way as haughtily as she could manage down the road.

Frowning ever so slightly, D swung easily from the saddle and alighted on the well-trodden ground. The sound of his boots hitting the sidewalk turned a few heads, then, after the girl had disappeared into a dwelling on the far end of the street, every eye was fixed on the dhampir Hunter.

D's sharp ears picked up the whispers that rippled through the villagers as the leaned in close to talk to their neighbors.

"Is that Draco?"

"No, I think that's a different one."

"Man, Sylva has a knack for attracting those freaks."

"Aw, give the girl a break – it wasn't her fault her family's bizarre."

"Where the hell were you yesterday? Drunk under the table again? Didn't you see the whole incident with that other vampire?"

"There was another one? Damn, they just crawl out of the walls!"

His face an emotionless mask, D approached the man closest to him, who paled visibly and took a step back as the ghastly aura washed over him like a tidal wave.

"My name is D," he said calmly. "I'm a Vampire Hunter. I'd like to ask you a few questions."

The man eyed him suspiciously. "I like to consider myself a trusting man," he said slowly, "but anyone arriving with Sylva – whether they be vampire, human, or God knows what else –"

"What does that girl have to do with the Nobility?" D interrupted. His voice was icily soft, but it thundered in the man's head as if he had screamed. The man began to stammer.

"W…well, it's kind of a l-l-long story, and I-I'm s-sure you're qu-quite b-b-busy…"

"I'll decide what I do with my time," D returned.

The man mopped his forehead. "R…right," he muttered. "Well, you see, it all started just after Sylva –that's her name – was born. Her mother, though a kind and g-gentle woman, was always a bit odd. Even though she was the wife of a wealthy merchant from the Capital with more than she could ever dream of having, she was never content. She would spend her days gazing out the window of her drawing room, a sketch pad in her lap and a pencil in her hand, and draw for hours and hours – always of the same man."

D narrowed his eyes. "I don't have time for stories," he said coldly.

"I-it's not just a story," the man protested. "It has everything to do with the girl's current situation. You see, the man her mother was drawing was a vampire – a local Noble by the name of Count Alexander Rune."

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R&R!


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